


Wardrobe Malfunction

by garlicbreadcutie



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Choking, Cunnilingus, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Hand & Finger Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reader-Insert, Rough Sex, Smut, Spanking, This is pure filth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-13 08:47:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7970458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/garlicbreadcutie/pseuds/garlicbreadcutie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your favorite General is coming for an inspection and naturally, not everything is up to his standards.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wardrobe Malfunction

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this half-drunk, so I really hope it's good.

Kriff. Kriff. Kriffing kriff.

Of all the days to sleep in, it had to be the day of inspection. Hastily, sheets were thrown off you as you stumbled into the refresher in the attempt to make yourself slightly presentable. You inwardly curse as your fingers attempt to make some something suitable out of your bed head. It couldn’t be any inspection you slept in for.

No.

It had to be the day General Hux was coming to make sure everything was in a proper fashion worthy of his beloved First Order. Supreme Leader Snoke’s iron fist, some called him. The backbone of the First Order. The man who hated you with every fiber of his being. The man never verbally proclaimed his distaste for you, but at the same time, did he really need to? Any time the two of you were in a room together you always caught him glaring at you as though you were unworthy to be in his presence. Unworthy of his precious First Order.

Whilst you were in the academy, you had the privilege of attending a few lectures taught by him before he had risen to his current rank. Back then he still had the same authoritative tone that sent shivers down your spine. He was bound for greatness and he knew it, anyone who looked at him could tell. It was only natural that you developed a bit of a crush on him. While he spoke you couldn’t help but melt in your seat at his every word. As he taught your class how to march you couldn’t completely erase those thoughts that told you to fall out of position in order to be corrected by his firm hand. Half of your class was putty in his hands and the other half would kill half the galaxy in order to be half the man he was. Alas, he never seemed the type to give in to the advances of others. Women, nor men. Any time you would try to speak with him after lecture he seemed to have an excuse to leave the room, as though he was repulsed to be in your presence. Some part of you wanted to cry at the rejection, but another part of you knew there could be no real relationship with a man of Hux’s high standing. Even the day you graduated, top of your class no less, he still held that same look of disgust in his eyes as he stared down at you.

Now you led your own fleet of Stormtroopers aboard a ship separate from the one the General led, and had reached the rank of Colonel. You wished deep down that today would be the day the General would give you some small sign of his approval of you, but in your heart you knew this to be in vain. 

After settling on a hairstyle that was both presentable and within regulations, you made your way to the closet only to have another mini panic attack.

All of your uniform slacks were dirty, leaving nothing but the tight, regulation pencil skirt in your wake. You wanted to cry in frustration, but at the same time it only made sense. When it rains, it pours. With a groan you snatched the skirt from you closet along with its required stockings and heels. 

You hadn’t worn a skirt since your days in the academy and the last thing you wanted was to remind Hux of the days when you were a doe-eyed officer in training, fawning over his every move. Your cheeks flushed at the thought of it, and you felt tears brimming at your eyes from the thought of him despising you. Quickly you brushed this away as you tucked your undershirt into your skirt. 

Colonels don’t cry, especially on inspection day. You willed your tears to stop following and summoned every inkling of your inner strength.

By the time you left your quarters, your head was held high as you made your way down the corridors of your ship. You might feel like a complete and utter mess on the inside, but you’d be damned if you let it show. 

All who passed you in the halls noticed the clicking of your heels against the smooth tile and nodded to you respectfully as you passed them by. Turning heads without even trying, maybe I’ll wear the skirt more often. You thought to yourself as you entered the landing dock. By the grace of the Maker, Hux’s shuttle was just making its way into the ship and you were able to get into formation with the other heads of the ship, Major Yandarr, and older man who often spoke fondly of his not-too-far-off retirement and Brigadier General Tovark, a middle aged man with a frightening passion for the First Order, with time to spare. If they noticed your skirt they were both too wise to say something about it.

As Hux descended from his ship you couldn’t help but drink in his every detail. The way his red tresses were perfectly coifed, not a hair out of place. The smoothness of his skin, and the way his ice blue eyes felt as though they hypnotized you. Your gaze drifted down further and you noticed he was without his trademark gloves, and you couldn’t help but bite your lip at the sight of his strong hands. As you marveled over every detail of your beloved general you couldn’t help but notice the rest of your colleagues were mysteriously silent. You had hoped to rely on them in order to limit your interactions with the Hux, but naturally after the morning you had, there would be no such luck.

“General, it’s such an honor to have you onboard the Decimator with us today,” your voice rang through the hangar, not an ounce of nervousness in it.

As if on time, his jaw immediately clenched at the sight of you. His eyes tranced up and down your form before settling on your skirt and letting out a small huff of irritation. He crooked an eyebrow in your direction before turning to your equals, as though to challenge them to speak to him. And a challenge it was, the other two men that led the ship with you were clammy and pale and tripped over their words as they begun the tour of the ship. 

He refused to even look in your direction as you began down the first corridor. Sheepishly, you lagged behind, stifling tears, as Major Yandarr started speaking of the specifics of the ship. He droned on about the metals that made up his beloved vessel and of the men and women that kept it such a fine ship.

Hux nodded along with Yandarr’s speech and for after a while you started to think that maybe he’d forgotten about your existence until he hissed at you.

“Do you plan to drag behind us all day, Colonel L/N?” His voiced cut you out of your moping like a butcher’s knife.

With a whimper you prayed no one could hear, you quickened you pace until you were right behind Yandarr and Torvark. You felt Hux’s eyes all over you, judging you, determining your worth. Even though this was just an inspection, you felt like your future with the First Order was on the line today.

Luckily, things went smoothly. Tovark proved the prowess of his pilots, how accurate they were without targeting computers and how lethal they were with them. Yandarr demonstrated the precious of those who worked on the bridge, how they were able to track a Resistance ship with the smallest of details, and how they could destroy any oncoming foe. By some stroke of fate, or perhaps divine intervention, you were able to validate your claims of the flawlessness of your Stormtroopers. Each one displayed perfect, spotless armor and not a touch of individuality, like the snake formerly known as FN-2187. By the time the inspection was complete, you felt a small swell of pride in your chest. Even if the General hated everything about you, there was no denying the pristine condition of your ship and its inhabitants. 

“Marvelous, simply marvelous,” the General uttered as you began the walk back to his shuttle, his tone almost jovial. Your heart leapt at the praise. 

Once again you felt tears brimming at your eyes, as you were overcome with pride. Finally, you thought to yourself. Your eyes shut in anticipation of Hux’s review of your ‘troopers only to snap open at the words that followed.

“However,” his voiced returned to its harsh tone, “I will need to speak with the Colonel regarding her,” he paused and cocked his head in your direction, “practices.”

You felt your stomach drop at his words and tried to muster the courage to speak.

“Sir, I-,” he cut you off before you had the change to even begin.

“Alone.” His gaze was turned on you now, blue eyes piercing your very soul. “In your office. Now.”

You turned on your heel, grateful he was behind you again as the hot tears began to flow down your reddened cheeks. It isn’t long before you’re standing in front of your office with Hux at your heels. As you fumble with your gloves to unlock your door, you call feel the hot puffs of his breath on your neck.

Whatever you did to piss him off, it had been the final straw. And now you were going to pay for it dearly.

As soon as the door opened to your office, Hux was pushing you through and turning to ensure the door was shut behind him. You stumbled forward until you stood facing your desk for what you thought might be the last time in this office as a Colonel. Your silent tears wouldn’t stop no matter how much you wiped your cheeks with shaky hands.

“Whatever I did, I just want to say-,” this time you weren’t cut off by his harsh tone, but to a hard slap to your ass.

Your mouth opened in a scream but you were far too frightened to let the sound leave you.

“How dare you.” Another slap. “How kriffing dare you march around here dressed in such a manner.” This time he hit your lower, more on your thighs than your ass and it burned. 

Before you had the chance to respond, his hands were pushing your skirt up over your hips so ass was on full display for him. Your cheeks grew hotter as your felt his eyes roam your backside. You wished you had worn tights instead of thigh high stockings and a garter belt, but you doubt it would have made a difference. His hand snaked upwards so that it was covering your mouth and the other was pushing harshly on you back so that you were bent over your desk, ass out and inviting a rougher spanking.

“Gallivanting around this ship in front of me like that?” His lips were pressed to your ear now, his voice sending those familiar shivers down your spine. “Strutting that fat ass in front of me for hours and yet you have the nerve to act so shy.” His fingers kneaded into your ass, drawing lazy circles upwards until his fingers pulled at your black thong. Your shut tightly as you savored the feeling of his bare skin on yours. “And this? So indecent. So filthy. You planned this from the start, didn’t you?”

He tugged the material upwards, dragging it against your already aching clit. Your moan came out muffled against his hand, but it wasn’t lost on his ears.

“Reminds me of your academy days,” he tugged your underwear again, “always flashing me those sultry looks from across the room and then having the nerve to act so innocent. ”

You grew wetter at his every word. He wanted you? In the years that you’d known him you always assumed he hated you. And yet here he was, curled around you like a snake. One hand twisting your panties into your sopping cunt, the other moving from your mouth so the sounds he drew from you were no longer muffled.

“What do you have to say for yourself, slut?” He hissed.

“I-I didn’t want panty lines,” you managed to choke out.

He sent three more firm smacks to your ass in quick succession, not giving you time to recover in between. Your screams were beginning to turn into moans and you had to bite your bottom lip in order to keep them at bay.

“I tried so hard to resist you, you know. It was hard, oh kriff was it hard, but I did it,” as he spoke he grinded his hips into your ass, his bulge was unmistakable, “I bet you wished I fucked you against my desk like I’m about to do to you now.”

Your heart leapt into your throat at his words. Surely you had to be dreaming. You were pulled from your thoughts at the sound of a belt being unbuckled and quickly drawn from its loops.

“Do you know what happens to filthy girls like you, L/N?” He hissed taking a step back from you.

Your ass wiggled in anticipation, “No, sir.”

With a chuckle he responded, his voice low as ever, “They get punished.”

You had no time to brace yourself before Hux brought his belt down on your ass with terrifying strength. This time you couldn’t suppress the moan that flew from your lips. You thanked the Maker that he didn’t make you count these strikes. With every blow, your pussy grew wetter until you could feel its slick dripping down your thighs. After fifteen brutal swats he seems satisfied with his work and your ass completely numb. Your throat was raw from screaming, but you couldn’t stop yourself from growing wetter with anticipation.

Despite the pain that throbbed throughout your whole body, you felt as though you were vibrating with glee. You could feel him towering over you, admiring his work.

His breath was coming out labored pants as he couched to his knees and brought himself closer to you. He ghosted his fingers over the backs of your thighs before bringing them upwards slowly so he could cup your ass. He thumbs drew lazy circles into your overheated skin and you looked over your shoulder to catch him licking his lips. You looked over your shoulder and shuddered from the hungry look on his face.

“T-thank you sir,” you managed to choke out.

His gaze snapped to meet yours.

“Sir?” he hissed, digging his fingers harshly into your skin, forcing a gasp from you.

“Thank you, General.” You corrected yourself this time, more tears spilling from your eyes.

A chuckle left his full lips as a menacing smile graced his features. “Filthy, filthy, filthy,” he whispered into your sex. 

His fingers move from the swell of your ass to once again tug at the fabric of your thong. The moan it elicits must be the reaction he’s looking for because he rips the material from you and buries his face in your aching pussy.

In your heightened state of arousal, the feeling on his tongue tracing circles around your clit is driving you positively mad with desire. The startings of stubble are grazing the skin of your thighs and it feels like every nerve in your body is singing with pleasure.

Working for the First Order you never really thought you’d get into heaven, but right here, right now is the closest you think you’ll ever get. And that’s perfectly fine.  
His hands dig into the globes of your ass, spreading your cheeks so his face can fit in between them perfectly. His moans and growls are sending vibrations through your entire being, and it has your eyes rolling back in your head. What you can only guess to be moans and words of praise are leaving your lips at a rate you can’t control, but there’s so much blood rushing to your head you can barely hear over the sound of your own heartbeat. His right hand snakes to your front to run figure eights on your clit as he moves his head back so he can fuck you with his tongue. He’s sucking up all of your leaking juices and it’s all too much.

Your orgasm starts slow at first, like water dripping from a tap, but by the time it crests it feels as though a dam within you has broken and you’re screaming so loud that if you hadn’t gone through the trouble of sound proofing your office, the whole ship would be clued in on what the General was doing to you. Hux’s moans only grow louder as he devours your increasing wetness, feasting on your pussy as though it’s a five-star meal. After he’s had his fill of you, he sits backs on his heels, a smirk upon his full lips.

“L/N?” he muses.

“S-sir?” You voice cracks, still lost in orgasm.

“Did I say you could cum?” He asked the question in such a calm tone you nearly forget the situation you’ve found yourself in.

Shit.

“No, sir.” You choke out.

“No, what?” He emphasizes his question by smacking your already tender ass with his large hand. 

“No, my General,” your voice is barely above a whisper. You can hear him smirk as he rubs your ass fondly.

He’s rising to his feet now. His hands trace up your sides until one is wrapped around your neck, the other fisted in your hair. He yanks you head back harshly, forcing your back straight and your chin is tilted upwards so your eyes meet his hungry gaze. You can see the faint glimmer of your slick on his chin, and you desperately want to lick it off his face. He gives another sharp pull to your hair, signaling that he wants you step back against him, and you do. Now your ass is flush to his body and you can feel his erection through the fabric of his uniform. 

“Do you require further punishment?” His voice is ominous but you can’t help but nod frantically with excitement. He smirks at this and presses his lips against your ear. “Use you words, like a big girl.”

You swallow thickly and shut your eyes, surrendering to him and this game he's playing. “I need to be punished General,” you voice hitches in your throat, “I’m a filthy girl.”

This seems to be the final push he needed as you don’t even hear him ridding himself of his remaining clothing. All you feel is his wonderfully thick cock being rammed into your pussy. A startled moan rips from your throat as you adjust to the sheer size of him. He’s stretching you to the point of pain, but you wouldn’t dare do anything but savor it, and you find yourself committing every detail of his delightful cock to memory. If you hadn’t already cum, you doubt you’d be able to take him so easily. Without giving you time to adjust he sets an unforgiving pace, filling the room with the sounds of skin against skin. It only adds to your ever-growing arousal.  
The hand at your throats gives a gentle squeeze, almost affectionate in nature. His every thrust is hitting your g-spot and pulling the most sinful of noises from your lips. Your cunt tightens in anticipation of your building orgasm and it draws a growl from him.

“Not. Yet.” His voice is strained, but judging by his thrusts he isn’t anywhere close to coming. 

You want to scream in frustration, you’re so close to coming but you need just a little push to get yourself there. 

“Please,” you beg, desperation evident in your voice.

He lets out a breathy laugh against your ear and moves his hips just right so that your vision starts to go black. Another strangled moan leaves your lips, and you hand moves to your clit in order to alleviate the pressure coiling in your belly. But he’s too quick for you and he pins your arms to your sides, leaving you in agony.  
“Does my little cock slut want to cum?” He purred in your ear. You could hear the smirk in his voice.

Foolishly you had hoped Hux would have adjusted his pace so it wouldn’t keep you teetering on the edge of climax, but after the man had spanked you whilst you were bent over your own desk until you were a sobbing mess, why would you expect sympathy? With a whimper, you choke down your pride.

“Please General, I want to cum on your fat cock. Please, please” there were tears streaming down your cheeks by now, “please let me cum.”

Another growl rose in his chest as he continued to brutalize your cunt. Every thrust sent electricity up your spine, like no one had ever done before. Hux was playing your body like a game only knew the rules to, and you knew deep down that no man would ever be able to please you again. Shit, after being fucked like this you doubted that you’d even be able to reach orgasm without him ever again. 

“And what will you give me if I let you cum?” His voice is so calm, if someone were to shut their eyes, they might not have guessed what was transpiring. You hesitate to answer, because you honestly can’t think of a good answer. What on earth did a girl like you have to offer a man of his pedigree? Your eyes felt nearly raw from all the tears that he’d brought forth from you. Your ass was definitely raw, and you could already feel bruises forming everywhere he’d put his hands. 

“Anything,” you sobbed, “Anything you want General, just let me cum!”

His hips twisted in a way that would haunt your wet dreams for weeks to follow. The arm he had wrapped around you released its grip and his hand moved to you sex, his middle and ring fingers rubbing harshly on your swollen clit. His other hand wrapped around your throat once more and squeezed, not to block air, but to make sure you wouldn’t forget who was bringing you to think mind-shattering orgasm. As if you would ever forget. 

“Then cum.” And you did.

An onslaught of cries and moans ripped from your throat, and your eyes rolled so far back into your skull you swore you saw your brain, if only for an instant. His thrusts didn’t let up, nor did his fingers. He pushed you to the point of overstimulation and kept going. Your second orgasm quickly turned into your third, robbing all strength from your body. You wanted to scream his name. To say thank you. But all that left your lips was a string of gibberish. The tightening of your pussy proved to be too much for him as his thrusts turn more erratic until he was spilling himself into you. The strangled moans that come from him were music to ears. It felt like he came for hours, pouring stream after stream of semen into your throbbing pussy. 

You can imagine it now. One of your men waking in on you in the middle of all this, skirt pushed up, ass out, the Generals cum leaking from your pussy with a delighted look on your face. Inwardly, you thank the Maker that you never got around to programming anyone else’s credentials to open your door. Outwardly, it’s all you can do to stand and not collapse after the brutal fucking Hux has gifted to you. Your legs feel like jelly and you doubt you’ll be walking proper for a long time.

Behind you, you can hear the faint rustlings of the General putting himself back together. By the time he’s finished your legs have finally given out and you’re slumped on the floor, gazing up at him in your post orgasmic haze.

“You’ll be relieved of your duties aboard the Decimator, L/N,” Ah. Fired. Naturally. “And you’ll be reporting to the Finalizer in seven cycles’ time, as my personal assistant.”  
Your eyes widen at the thought of it. Day in and day out with the man who had fucked you silly. A dream come true.

“It would be an honor, General,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

The closest you’ve ever seen to a genuine smile graces his features all too briefly and he turns on his heel to exit your office.

You spend the next week packing your belongings and making heartfelt goodbyes to the few friends you made during your stay on the ship and it feels all too soon before you’re being greeted upon the Finalizer. Anxiously you make your way to your new quarters to start unpacking your uniforms only to find your closet entirely full.

Instead of the regulation pants you had in your luggage, the space was completely filled with pristine, jet black pencil skirts.


End file.
